


Biophilia

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Flowers, Hospitals, M/M, Painting, Psychological Trauma, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9670958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: Kawai Shizuka is a doctor in internal medicine. Malik Ishtar is a reoccurring patient in the psych ward.And Shizuka starts making unsolicited trips a couple floors down from her department in order to catch a glimpse of his beautiful older sister.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It’s an AU but, _hmm_ – there are a lot of indications that Battle City, or something very much like it, happened. So maybe the only divergence is that Shizuka didn’t manage to make it onto the blimp?  
>  Ha ha, just go with it.
> 
> Also I tried not to get too involved in the medical and psych stuff, but warnings nonetheless for volatile mental health stuff, Shizuka’s slightly ableist view on the situation, and that goddamn padded cell.

 

It was the fourth time a Mr Malik Ishtar had been admitted to psych, and Doctor Kawai knew this for all the wrong reasons.

The first time he visited, it was definitively off her radar. She’d spent time trying to figure it out retrospectively, when she was walking home far too late at night, or scrubbing shampoo into her scalp in the shower. What had she been doing when he had been first admitted on November 17th of the previous year? It had been a Thursday, so probably she had been at the hospital – pouring over sheets of symptoms and diagnoses, or discussing options with patients, or filling in logs, or disimpacting somebody’s bowels – and probably thinking about Mai-san’s birthday plans all the while. Dirty work – _all of it._ But, along with the realisation that she had been standing idly under the showerhead, hair completely washed and lost in thought, Shizuka came to an understanding – whatever she had been doing at the time, she obviously hadn’t been ready for the Ishtars.

…

She hadn’t been ready during Malik’s second admission to the hospital either, but she had been there all the same.

She’d been badgering the hospital director, with much less concern for the security of her job than she really should have.

“You still haven’t responded to my presentation,” Shizuka said. “Have you had time to consider my proposal?”

She tried to keep her voice soft and quietly prodding. She bit her lip, and leaned over the vase and the pink and white irises, prodding too close into his personal space.

The director sighed. He walked down the stairwell, and did not look back at Shizuka as he talked.

“I told you I’d look at the budget, and assess its financial feasibility,” he said.

“You told me that over five months ago,” Shizuka said. She followed him at his heels.

The hospital director paused two landings down. He seemed to hesitate slightly, before pressing open the door to Level 3 – _Emergency Psychiatry_.

Shizuka hesitated, before steeling herself and stepping through the door. She half-wondered if the hospital director had gone through this level on purpose, just to lose her. Nobody liked the psych ward. The way things moved between exhausted quiet to blistering noise, from one moment to the next. The way medicines and scalpels were constantly held under lock and key, and the way you had to stand with your back to the wall. And the way its patients escaped their rooms and wandered the halls, distracting the staff and each other with words that didn’t seem to mean anything. At least not until something got pushed over an edge.

 _Well, it would take more than that to stop her._ Shizuka frowned, determinedly. She had completed her rotations here as an intern – just like everyone else.

She pressed through the door, clutching the irises to her chest, hot on the hospital director’s heels.

“This sooner this is implemented, the sooner we can start reaping the effects. Biophilic design theory has proven a connection between patient proximity to greenery, and lower recovery times and improved hospital turnover.” She tried to stop herself from huffing. “There’s no reason that you can’t invest in some potted plants and scenic artwork if it makes a difference in patient recovery rates,” she insisted. “I’m not asking for a hospital garden.”

“Not yet.”

Shizuka pursed her lips. She hugged the vase closer to her chest with her left arm, as she reached up to brush a couple strands of hair out of her eyes.

The psych ward seemed deceptively calm. Shizuka turned her shoes angular, and pressed her back into the nurses’ station. The white walls of the ward seemed to shine like the sun, blinding out the faces of the people scattered throughout the hall and at the doors to the patient rooms.

“Have you read Ulrich?” she asked. “The panel of evidence he provides for his theory is solid.”

Somebody was discussing jello cups, heroin withdrawal, and doses of morphine.

It took Shizuka a second to realise the hospital director hadn’t responded. She continued along the hall after him. Her eyes caught on a foreigner – deep umber and white, but she pulled her eyes forward.

“Even if you discount peer-reviewed publications,” Shizuka tried to keep the insinuation mild, “you have to admit there’s something intuitive about it. There’s been a long history of the natural world and its connection to wellness. _Shinrin yoku_ -”

The hospital director finally rounded on her. He did not seem concerned about his surroundings in the same way as she was.

“ _Doctor Kawai_ ,” he said.

Shizuka pulled the irises in front of her – both as a visual aid for her point, and as a defence. She pretended the director’s glare seemed less intense framed by the leaves and the flowers.

“I have told you I am willing to go over the budget if you will _stop_ _pestering_. Although, I highly doubt I will be able to find room in to for anything as _trivial_ as _paintings_ and _flowers_!”

Shizuka winced.

“Now, if you will excuse me,” the hospital director continued, “I have patients to attend to. And- so- do- _you_.” He punctuated his words slowly, and gave Shizuka one last glare before walking off.

Shizuka stood. She felt on the verge of tears, and was trying to hide it behind her vase of irises, but a resounding bang shook her away from her own emotions.

“Son of a-” a foreign man in a tight-fitting leather jacket was being restrained and forced into the multi-coloured padded room. “Get you all- Monsters-” He rammed his own body against the wall, and slid over to a closed door. “Killed the fuckin’ bastard – dead. Put me here-” he snorted. “Put me where? Clueless bastard deserves every single thing he gets.”

Shizuka made eye contact, against all common sense. The man’s hair was ruffled up, like a giant mane. And his eyes were veiny and crazed.

“What’re you looking at, _bitch_?” he spat. He waggled his tongue, and managed to lick his chin before the nurses, and hospital security, and another larger foreigner with a tattooed face, forced him away and inside.

Shizuka had forgotten to breath.

“Are you alright?”

Shizuka turned.

Another foreigner walked up to her. Or, rather, it was the first one she’d noticed. The woman was absolutely breath-taking. Long, dark hair. Perfectly symmetrical features, and deep, warm eyes. And her sense of style seemed both simple and elegant. She wore a white, long-sleeved blouse, and simple gold hoops.

“That doctor – he upset you,” the woman spoke in perfect Japanese. “And my brother… certainly you can understand he is not always like that.”

Shizuka blushed deeply. She felt so ashamed, she could _die_.

It was inappropriate enough that her personal conflict with the director was visible to the patients and their families. Bad enough that this foreigner felt the need to apologise to _her_. But she had been reprimanded and humiliated and moments away from _tears_ , in front of a gorgeous woman.

“Excuse me,” Shizuka chirped. She shoved the vase of irises into the woman’s hands. “Research suggests that the presence of greenery and natural life improves patient recovery times. You should give them to your brother.”

The woman blinked at the vase in her arms.

_Could the woman even understand her?_

“ _Present~_ ” Shizuka added, in broken English, before her shoulders curled in on her. The woman and her brother had been speaking Japanese only a second ago, and how could she be so foolish, and-

 _Oh, crap_. It was the psych ward.

“Or actually-” Shizuka said softly, even as she wrenched the vase firmly out of the woman’s hands. “You can’t have this vase in here. Because it’s glass. And it’s dangerous and can be a weapon if it breaks, but-” She pulled the irises out of the water and shoved them, still dripping at the stems, into the woman’s arms.

The wet tips of the irises pressed into the woman’s white blouse, and discoloured it.

The woman blinked at the flowers.

“I’m sure it will, um- help,” Shizuka said. “Um, bye~”

And that was the last word she’d said to Isis Ishtar, before she’d floored it out of the psych ward at top speed.

…

The third time Malik Ishtar had been admitted to the psych ward, Shizuka was well aware, along with everyone else it seemed.

Maybe it was only because Shizuka had her ears opened, but it seemed like the presence of a foreign patient and his two relatives was quite the topic for discussion. And not just _any_ foreigner. He was not from America or Europe, but _Egypt_. This was very _exotic_ , everyone decided.

 _He’s crazy… But imagine if he wasn’t_ , Shizuka heard them gossip. _His pale hair… And slender body… And his friend, too! Did you see his friend, with the long hair? The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen!_

Shizuka listened without comment. She often found herself in uncomfortable conversations where women drooled over men, like they drooled over meat, and she was expected to participate. At one time she would have lied, and said she found one of them attractive, but now she just froze them out with silence.

_She couldn’t relate. But, then again, was she really so different with the way she’d immediately glommed onto the image of his sister?_

She sneaked a looked at the psych ward files.

_Dissociative Identity Disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder._

She skimmed past this. She’d already heard about Malik through the grapevine.

But she found the names of his siblings in the emergency contacts.

_Rishid Ishtar._

And _Isis_ Ishtar.

She rolled the name over her tongue. Felt the way she hovered over the alveolar ridge, as she hissed out the I- _S-_ I- _S_.

She thought about going down to the third floor, to catch a glimpse of Isis. But Shizuka worried that she was only indulging some form of cultural exoticism. She considered it too long, and hesitated until Malik was checked out of the hospital – earlier than expected.

…

So the fourth time Malik had been admitted to psych – almost ten months after his first admission – Shizuka had, to some extent at least, gotten over herself.

It didn’t hurt anybody, if she used her lunch break to sneak down to the psych ward. At a time that coincided suspiciously with visiting hours. And if she caught a couple glimpses of Isis Ishtar, and pretended it was something grand, that didn’t hurt anybody either.

_It was better than pining after her sister-in-law, at least._

Shizuka adjusted the white of her lab coat, and clicked shoes down the stairs to the third floor. She tried to seem unassuming, as she walked on the opposite end of the hall and searched for Malik’s room, and _Isis_ , out of the corner of her eye.

Oddly, it seemed like everybody was watching her. Every set of female eyes in the place panned beside her.

_Was she being that obvious? What had she done, to attract so much judgement? Did she-_

Somebody tapped her shoulder.

“Shizuka-chan? Is that you?”

Shizuka swung around. Her ponytail whapped somebody straight in the face.

“R- Bakura Ryou-kun?” she asked.

_Of course._

It was a given that Ryou would attract that kind of attention, if he was around. Maybe that’s why Shizuka liked him so much, out of the group of her brother’s friends. He had never chased after her the way Honda and Otogi had – perhaps because he seemed to understand how upsetting unwanted attention could be.

“Shiuzka-chan!” Ryou rubbed at the tip of his nose. He was dressed casually, in a blue plaid shirt and jeans, and carrying a small shoulder bag. “I knew you worked as a doctor, but I didn’t know you worked here? …You’re not in psychiatry, are you?”

Shizuka shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m in internal medicine. I was just…”

She faltered.

“Got sent down from your unit?” Ryou smiled, oblivious to her conflict. “I’m just here visiting a patient! I’d ask you to come join me but, if you have work right now…”

“A- Actually I’m on my lunch break.” Shizuka felt compelled to be truthful.

She didn’t realise how far in she’d gotten, until she found herself at the door to Malik’s room, being introduced to his brother.

“This is Rishid,” Ryou beamed, gesturing to the tall, tattooed foreigner.

“Um, pleased,” Shizuka bowed, uncomfortably.

Rishid looked down at her for a moment. But, when she stood, he bowed as well.

He said something to Ryou in- it didn’t _sound_ like English – and turned away.

Ryou smiled at hustled Shizuka into the room.

“He says that Malik’s calm right now, so you came at a good time.”

“Did he?” Shizuka asked. This was a whole lot to take in. Moving from the giant, intimidating brother, to the crazy one. She hoped both that she would see Isis, and that she would not, and tried not to panic.

“Rishid’s very sweet,” Ryou announced brightly. “Everybody likes him.”

He had just seemed scary to Shiuzka.

“Rishid’s a meddlesome _nuisance_!” another dissenting opinion rang through the air.

Malik was sitting up in bed, flipping the television controls at his bedside, and messily stuffing his face with one of the rice omelettes the hospital served for lunch. He clicked the television off, as Ryou and Shizuka made it into the room.

Ryou chose to ignore the comment about Rishid.

“You shouldn’t make such a mess while you’re eating,” he said lightly.

“Quiet Bakura,” Malik growled. “We’ve all seen you have a go at a steak.”

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t me,” Ryou said.

“Creampuffs, then.” Malik licked the exterior of his omelette very… strangely.

Ryou shook his head. “Shizuka-chan, this is Malik Ishtar.” He gestured between them. “Malik Ishtar – Kawai Shizuka-chan.”

Malik eyed them warily. But Ryou walked to the opposite side of Malik’s bed, and sat down in the bedside chair. He swung his bag off his shoulder, and began searching for something.

Shizuka stood awkwardly on the opposite side of the bed. She attempted to greet Malik, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“Me?” Malik hissed. “Right… I guess I’m ‘Malik’. The one that nobody likes.”

“That’s not true.” Ryou smiled, as he pulled a baggie of pre-cut apple slices and a paper plate out of his bag. “I like you,” he said, and began arranging the apples on the plate.

Malik snorted. “Yeah, but you like the other one more,” he accused lightly.

Ryou grinned sheepishly. “Well, you have to admit the other one does me a lot more favours.”

Malik looked vaguely disgusted, but he accepted the plate of apples. Ryou reached up to smooth down Malik’s hair. But Malik snapped, and smacked his arm away with a dangerous swipe.

“ _Don’t_!” he hissed.

One of the apple slices had fallen to the floor.

“Oh dear,” Ryou said, with light surprise. He cradled his hand, as he pulled it away.

Malik watched, and grimaced in spite of himself.

For a moment none of them said anything.

“So why is she here?” Malik asked. He pointed to Shizuka without looking at her. “Got another doctor for me to see? Couldn’t you choose another one, Bakura? I don’t like this one… She stares at me funny.”

Shizuka remembered the time, months ago, when he had first gone off at her for staring.

“You have a very good memory,” she said. _Back to the wall_.

Ryou beamed. “He does, doesn’t he?” He turned to Malik, who was chewing on a bite of apple. “But, no. She’s not here in her capacity as a doctor. She’s a friend of mine – Jounouchi-kun’s sister.”

Malik startled. He turned and squinted at her, like he was examining a picture.

“Oh, right,” he said. “Her hair’s the same texture.”

Shizuka smiled. She liked when people picked up on the resemblance between her and her brother, no matter how underwhelming it seemed initially.

“You know I killed him once,” Malik continued.

Shizuka’s smile dropped away.

“Although, I guess he came back so maybe it doesn’t really count.” Malik stuck his tongue out, disgusted.

Ryou coughed.

“Maybe Shizuka-chan would like to meet the Malik that didn’t try to, er- _didn’t_ kill Jounouchi-kun.”

Malik eyed Ryou, unimpressed, but-

“Oh, fine,” he agreed, slumping back in the bed.

It was odd to witness, but Malik’s eyes refocussed right in front of Shizuka and, when they found her, it was like looking at a completely different person.

Ryou reached up immediately and smoothed Malik’s hair down.

Malik didn’t push him away this time, but collapsed against his arm.

“Ryouuuu~ I’m so tired,” he whined.

Ryou cradled his head and smoothed his hair. “I know,” he laughed.

“He won’t _shut up_!” Malik complained. “It’s exhausting. I’m sick of him. I _hate_ him.”

“Oh, he’s not so bad,” Ryou said.

Malik grumbled.

“And you shouldn’t say stuff like that,” Ryou insisted. “He can hear you… and might think you mean it.”

“But I _do_ ,” Malik insisted.

“You’re getting better,” Ryou said.

“No, I’m not,” Malik responded, glumly. “This is the fourth time within the year I’ve been admitted to emergency psych.”

Ryou’s smile only made it half-way to his eyes. He took it upon himself to change the subject.

“Jounouchi-kun’s sister is here to visit you.”

“Right,” Malik straightened up in his hospital bed. He turned to her. He seemed almost… professional in the way he smiled and offered his hand.

Shizuka hesitated only slightly, before reaching over the shake it.

“I know you,” Malik said.

“Well, you know my brother,” Shizuka said, holding back a smile. Malik seemed almost charming, when he was like this.

“Sure, but I know you too,” Malik said. “You were the one that was trying to convince the hospital director to incorporate biophilic design into his budget.”

Shizuka paled slightly.

“I’m- surprised you remember that.”

Malik huffed slightly. He pulled his hand away and used it to tap his forehead.

“I’m observant,” he boasted. “But- er- even if I hadn’t been, my sister wouldn’t shut up about you, after you gave us those irises.”

Shizuka felt her face flush, and her spine pull ramrod straight. “She… wouldn’t…?” She bit her lip.

_Hopefully nothing bad was said about her._

“Speak of the devil,” Malik said. “Isis!” he called out past Shizuka the entrance of the room. “There’s someone here you’re going to want to see!” He paused a minute. “And tell Rishid to come back in!” he shouted. “I’m sorry my other-self yelled at him!”

“Malik!” Isis huffed, stomping into the room. “You cannot just yell at Rishid and expect him to be okay with it after- Oh!” she startled as she recognised Shizuka, who turned around to face her.

Shizuka did not know what to do. She found herself collapse into a bow.

“I’m very sorry for our last meeting,” she said, facing the ground. She thought about the embarrassing way she had fallen apart and shoved the dirty, wet flowers into Isis’s arms.

“This is Jounouchi’s sister, Kawai Shizuka,” Ryou introduced.

“Sorry for what?” Isis spoke over him. “Or, actually, my apologises as well. I meant to thank you for the flowers, I was just-”

“Did you need something, Master Malik?” Rishid said.

“Rishid,” Malik crowed. “I’m really sorry. But you know I think of you as my brother always, right Rishid… Have some of my apple!” he held out Ryou’s paper plate.

“…Master Malik, you should eat.”

The entire room seemed to be descending into some kind of pandemonium. Shizuka was trying to focus – Malik had to be at group therapy soon, and he was complaining about having to participate in stupid craft-making and, also, none of the other patients had any talent, despite what Tanaka-san said, _thank you very much_. Ryou was talking about his post-grad work. And Rishid and Isis were nodding along, stepping in every once in a while to direct the flow of Malik and Ryou’s chatter.

But it was entirely too difficult for Shizuka to contribute to the conversation. Isis had grabbed her hand, swung her up, and pulled her out of her bow. And, even now, Isis’s arm brushed against hers, and she could feel the way her skin piqued at the contact.

“So you’re Jounouchi’s sister…?”

“Tell us more about your medical specialty, Shizuka-chan,” Ryou prodded. “I can’t believe you were the one who gave Isis the flowers.”

Shizuka had stumbled through the answers, feeling much less in control of them than she would like. She checked her watch in a way she hoped wasn’t too noticable. She had to be back at work in fifteen minutes, and-

She took a deep breath, and interrupted some tirade of Malik’s about a museum exhibit.

“M-Miss Isis,” she said, “would you like to have coffee and, um, discuss things in my office upstairs?”

The entire room seemed to pause.                               

Isis looked at her, stepped away to get a clearer view.

…

“Is this about Malik’s medical history?” Isis asked hesitantly. “Or insurance?”

Shizuka blushed. She tried not to look at the other three faces in the room.

“Um, no,” she said, as firmly as she could.

There was a pause, then Isis smiled. “Oh, of course then!”

Shizuka pretended she didn’t notice the discrete thumbs up Malik gave his sister.

==

“You did the paintings yourself?”

Isis swirled the metal coffee tin in her hand, and looked up at the portrait in Shizuka’s office.

“I was really into art in high school and college,” Shizuka answered tacitly. She resisted the urge to rearrange the camellias in the vase on her desk. “Actually I was partially blind most of my life. It seemed weird to leave that behind, but I blame it for my sudden love affair with the visual arts.”

Isis hummed in agreement. She looked up at the portrait.

Mai-san’s full lips and wild hair smiled down at them. Bright slashes of yellow, and purple, and cream.

“Actually, I think I heard about you – Jounouchi’s blind sister recovering from her surgery… It really is rather odd we’re both acquainted through Jounouchi and Miss Kujaku,” Isis said.

“Very strange,” Shizuka agreed, faltering.

“A small world,” Isis turned and smiled at Shizuka. She swirled her coffee tin again. “A lot of coincidence. A lot of fate.”

Shizuka faltered.

“It’s a very pretty portrait of Miss Kujaku,” Isis said, tipping her shoulder towards the portrait. “Or is it Miss Jounouchi now?” she asked.

“I mean… yes, officially. But nobody calls her that.” Shizuka laughed. “Mai-san is _Mai-san_ , always will be.”

Isis nodded. “It was too bad I could not attend the wedding.” She hesitated. “Ryou went. He felt the need to tell us Miss Kujaku didn’t feel comfortable having Malik at the wedding – his other-self hurt her in the past – and it was too strange to invite me and Rishid without our brother.”

“Oh, um…”

Shizuka didn’t know how to respond.

Isis laughed. “I’m sure Miss Kujaku was more tactful than to just come out and say it like that. Ryou is a kind person, but he’s the kind of kind that says insensitive things without thinking. Malik was very upset.”

Shizuka remembered her brother’s wedding. She remembered standing in the back with Ryou while Anzu had tried to catch the bouquet. She remembered feeling less sad than she thought she would.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t make it,” Shizuka decided. “It was a very nice ceremony”

“I’m sure it was,” Isis agreed. She nodded to the portrait. “Let me be insensitive – Did you love her?”

For a second, this stood between them. Shizuka clutched her coffee. It burned her hand.

Shizuka tried not to sputter. “O- of course, I love her. She’s my sister-in-law. Even before they got married, she was like a big sister to me.”

Isis hummed. She caught sight of a painting on the adjacent wall.

Shizuka waited a moment, before deciding she probably wasn’t fooling anyone.

“How did you know?” she asked.

Isis laughed. “I’ve always been good at reading people. But probably I’ve had an extra eye for this kind of thing since my brother and Ryou became such good ‘ _friends_ ’.” Isis pointed to the new painting. “You do landscapes too?” she said rhetorically.

“Yes,” Shizuka agreed. Her hand was still burning. “Both paints and photography. But most of my landscapes are in the patient rooms, though,” she explained. “The aesthetic of the outside world calms patients.”

“Right,” Isis laughed. “Biophilic hypothesis.”

Shizuka grumbled.

Isis went, and took a seat in front of Shizuka’s desk. She placed her coffee tin up, on a stack of books.

“I actually already knew about your paintings, I confess,” Isis said. She turned her head down, and covered it partially with her hand. “I asked after you, after you gave me flowers that time… I wandered up here to see some of your paintings, I hope you don’t mind.”

_Was Isis blushing?_

Shizuka floundered. She took her seat at the desk, across from Isis.

“My paintings aren’t much.” Shizuka said.

Something was bothering her.

“I’m sorry. Four separate times in and out of the psych ward… your brother’s condition must be pretty bad,” she commiserated. “Maybe it was stupid of me to pretend like a bunch of flowers would help. I didn’t mean to be condescending.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Isis sipped her coffee. “They helped,” she said. “I didn’t think you were condescending… Alright, maybe they didn’t help to reduce return trips to the hospital,” she admitted. “But they made me smile. They made Malik smile, too.”

Shizuka grimaced.

“The hospital director didn’t okay your proposal.” Isis said. It wasn’t a question.

…

“One day,” Isis said, “you will be the hospital director, and you can make sure all your patients have the quickest recovery times possible, because you’re looking out for them!”

It cheered Shizuka up, in spite of everything.

“How do you know that?” she prodded.

Isis thought on this a long moment. She took another sip of her coffee, and placed the tin back on the desk.

“I don’t know anything for sure,” Isis finally admitted, laughing. “But all your patients said good things about you – that you worked hard, and were caring. And they said they enjoyed your paintings and flowers too... And you already have an office, even though you’re still young and probably haven’t been practicing for too long, so you must be pretty good.” She looked confidently at Shizuka. “I’m sure you could be the hospital director one day if you wanted.”

This settled deep and warm into Shizuka’s chest. Far warmer than the coffee.

The clock ticked. Shizuka turned to it.

“Ah, I’ve taken off past my lunch break by now,” Shizuka admitted. “I really have to get back to work…” She bit her lip. She gathered her courage. “But I’d really like to hear more about _you_ , Isis-san!” she enthused. “Coffee at my office was nothing. Would you… like to meet outside of the hospital?!”

Isis blinked, like she couldn’t believe the question.

For someone who had just been asking Shizuka if she was in love with another woman… Isis had no right or reason to be surprised. And Shizuka had no reason to be bashful, she decided.

“Well, of course,” Isis said, reaching forward across the desk to put her hand atop Shizuka’s. “When would you like to meet?”

 


End file.
